New Year's eve has got to be the most over-rated holiday of the year. I'm
all about celebrating any holiday, even the ones I have never heard of
but I always dread New Year's eve. Something about being forced to stay
up late, wearing a sparkly, tacky hat and tooting a horn, trying to be
cheerful and chatty when I am actually dog tired from the Christmas
holidays. Otherwise the option is to stay home and feel depressed that
everyone else is out having a good time except for me.
I discovered several years ago that the answer to all of my New Year's eve trauma was to go to work. Since I work for a major airline and the 'Senior Mamas" (our semi-affectionate term for the stews who have been flying for 35+ years) don't want to work on any holiday, I can pretty much pick up any trip I want. I debated on a 5 day trip to Prague or Stockholm but decided it was too cold. I looked at long layovers in Rio de Janeiro, Santiago, Chile, and Buenos Aires but decided I wasn't in the mood to always be looking over my shoulder. Bingo, 50 hours in Honolulu popped up on my computer and I took it immediately.

“Now, I go on a diet.”
Holiday time and the sipping is easy. As for the food—I have four words to help you take your New Year's Eve bash over the top: fire up the grill. Yeah, it's cold out there—especially if you live up north, but live fire and wood smoke add high drama and depth of flavor you just can't achieve on the stove or in the oven.
Collard greens, black eyed peas, cornbread and pork are the foodstuffs of the South, rich in legend, lore, and superstition. Money or not, every Southern family I know dines on these same vittles for their New Year’s supper. Not too poor of eating if I say so myself.